


Correct

by Soar319



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: 149 hurt like no other, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, SPOILERS FOR 149
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23191240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soar319/pseuds/Soar319
Summary: (SPOILERS for Spy in the Desert secret, Episode 149/Blood Space War arc)Facts are correct. Their first date was Gino’s Italian Dining Experience and Bar and Grill. Their first kiss was after said first date. They decided condos weren't right for them. They separated for a year. They reunited after a year. They got married and are husbands. They have a son and a home that they all live together in as a family. All of these things are correct."I’ve never had a long term serious relationship."That, is not correct.
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	Correct

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BeauBrummellBaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeauBrummellBaby/gifts).



> again, this has spoilers for the Spy in the Desert (Cecil's Secret) and spoilers for Episode 149- The General during the Blood-Space War Arc!

“ _I mentioned in passing that I’m a perennial bachelor._ ”

There are many things that are correct in the world. Numbers are correct. Equations are correct. Chemical compounds are correct. 

Facts are correct. Their first date was Gino’s Italian Dining Experience and Bar and Grill. Their first kiss was after the date. They decided condos weren’t right for them. They separated for a year. They reunited after a year. They got married. They are husbands. They have a son, a home. They all live together as a family. All of these are correct. 

“ _I’ve never had a long-term serious relationship._ ”

That, is _not correct_.

Carlos stares at the radio, ignoring how his eyes are dry and burning as Cecil reassures the town that he doesn’t need to be set up on blind dates. His honey-voiced honey, who once made everything in his head relax and calm down, now sent him into further distress with each word. Cecil talks about his perfect hair and teeth like a military cemetery. It’s not the same way as he said it all those years ago. It is _not correct_.

“Papi?” Esteban tugs on his lab coat, hugging a purple-striped yellow giraffe against his chest. It smells of birthday cake. Cecil won it at a carnival for him. “When can we go home?” Carlos morosely gazed at his laboratory, his and Esteban’s home for the past few weeks. Home, did not exist yet. Home, was gone. His home, Cecil, was gone. 

“A few more days, sweetie.” 

“You said that last time.” He did. He hoped, prayed, begged, bled, and worked for a solution to this horrible, horrible discontinuity in timelines to work in a few days. There has been no solution. There are no numbers to plug into this agonizing equation. He went through three packs of City Council approved chalk and covered every inch of his chalkboard with desperate possibilities. His notes are in disarray and chaos, spread across his table. Every machine with blinking lights and buttons yielded nothing. 

Science is failing him. Carlos tastes bile on the back of his tongue. 

Cecil talks about their first date. Their first date was at Big Rico’s Pizza. That is _not correct_. It makes his chest ache and his vision spin. He feels sick. Cecil says they finished their pizza, got up, and parted ways. That is _not correct_. They took a stroll through Mission Grove Park afterward- on their first date, the actual, correct first date.

Carlos’ chest tightens further. He exhales to try to relieve some of the tension and all that comes out is a broken wheeze. He feels Esteban grab his hand and he realizes he is digging his nails into his skin again. 

“Papi…” He lets go and grips his lab coat instead. Looking at Esteban, it hurts to see the kid so worried. He’s a kid, he shouldn’t be caught up in this mess.

He can't sleep. All he can think about is trying to fix the timeline, fix Night Vale, fix it like he’s done so many times before. It works out. It always works out. At night, he holds Esteban close and listens to Esteban wishing over and over for Daddy to come home until he passes out. Carlos pretends to sleep, for he is terrified of what might happen if he actually does. Not of what he will see when he wakes up, but what will he not see. 

“Papi, can we go see Daddy? He’s at the radio station, right?” He wants to. He wants to so, so badly. But logically, it would just make Cecil even more suspicious of him. In Cecil’s timeline, they are not husbands. They are not boyfriends. They are acquaintances. That is correct.

That is the very definition of _not correct_. 

“No. We can’t go see Daddy. I’m sorry, sweetie.” Esteban’s face falls even more, as the same with his heart. Pushing the chair back, Carlos knelt down and met him at eye-level. Esteban hugs his giraffe plush. 

“Can we go home?” There aren’t many things for a kid to do in a laboratory. Carlos made it very clear he cannot touch any of the equipment or beakers. Even he was getting a little sick of being isolated in the laboratory, but he dared not leave and possibly disappear from another timeline. “When is Daddy coming home?” He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to make a promise, for it can turn out incorrect. Esteban hugs the plush even tighter, face pressed against the soft fabric. Cecil’s voice rings out from the radio. 

“ _Ok, this is getting annoying. So the guy I was telling you about earlier, Carlos_ ,” Esteban froze as he heard, Carlos scrambling to stand back up, “ _he’s been texting me this whole show, saying he wants to-_ ” He shuts the radio off, the lump in his throat ten times larger. His phone screen glows faintly, showing the series of desperate texts and pictures he sent a while ago that has no reply. Esteban stares at the radio. Carlos prays that he doesn’t understand, but already knows Esteban fully understands the gravity of the situation. 

“Is… Is Daddy ever coming back?” His voice is muffled and cracked, like he’s afraid of the words. “Does Daddy not… not love us?” His entire stomach turns into ice. Carlos tries to piece together what Esteban just said. It is incorrect, it is wrong, it is so, _so wrong_. Everything he just said is wrong. 

The logical part of his brain pings that it’s technically correct, right now. But if he learned anything since living in Night Vale, is that the logical part of his brain is usually wrong. 

“Esteban, listen to me.” He kneels back down to the ground, resting his hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know when he’s coming home, I… I can’t say when.” Esteban’s bottom lip quivers. It hurts Carlos’ heart. “But know that both he and I love you so, so much. No matter what. Nothing will change that, it is a fact, it is correct.” Reaching out, he hugs him tightly. It’s not enough, but it’s all he can do right now. It’s all he can do. Esteban hugs him back and buries his face into his shoulder, weeping and whimpering. Carlos tightens his hug. “We love you, Esteban, no matter what happens.” 

He hasn’t let Esteban leave his sight ever since the timelines started twisting. He’s terrified beyond what his mind can rationalize if he loses not only Cecil, but their son as well. In his notebook, there are pages upon pages listing what he needs to remember. What is correct. For gods forbid, he forgets as well. 

Aubergine comes over, pressing their cold, smooth nose against his arm in an attempt to join the hug. Carlos pats them, mindful of the quills. They let out a low whine akin to steam escaping a pressurized valve. 

“Daddy will be home, eventually.” That has to be correct. He wants it to be correct. He _needs_ it to be correct. Aubergine and Esteban go take a nap on the patchy couch, rearranging the few pillows. They curl up next to each other and fall asleep rather quickly, covered by a blanket from the no-longer-existing home. Carlos tucks him in properly and kisses his forehead, praying that Esteban has better dreams for once. 

The radio is still turned off. He isn’t sure if he’s ready to turn it back on. He isn’t sure if he can handle another word out of Cecil’s mouth. But he can’t lose Cecil, he can’t be alone again. Ten years was more than enough. Twisting the wedding ring on his finger, Carlos takes a shuddering breath. 

Picking up his phone, he called Cecil’s number. It went to voicemail. He swallows, shuts his eyes, pulls his knees against his chest, and speaks. 

“Cecil, I… I’m calling for personal reasons.”

**Author's Note:**

> episode 149 and the entire blood space war fucked me up so badly ESPECIALLY 149 dylan marron's voice acting is beyond heart-wrenching
> 
> inspired by a message sent in the discord on 2/23/2020 all_of_the_trash you know which one


End file.
